


Queens of the Dark Side

by Introverted_Chaos



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Chiss Inquisitor, Dromund Kaas, F/F, Slight Canon Divergence, Suggestive Themes, implied hot tub nookie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introverted_Chaos/pseuds/Introverted_Chaos
Summary: The Emperor's Wrath finds herself unprepared for the depth of Dark Council politics. Recently appointed to the Council, Darth Occlus hopes to use this to her advantage.
Relationships: Female Sith Inquisitor & Female Sith Warrior
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Queens of the Dark Side

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a story idea I started ages ago, but never really got to do much with. I've got too many projects already, and since I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to continue it, I thought I'd share with any interested readers. (And if I do get the chance to do more, the story is right here, ready.)
> 
> I kind of love the idea of two dark warrior queens falling in love and weaving death and destruction in their wake. My original idea was to make this a prologue, then flash back to them meeting on Korriban and teaming up on each planet over the course of the game, each responding to things that happen in the other's story line.

“Are council meetings usually this interesting,” Va’lana asked, leaning over so only Zash could hear her. “Granted, this is only my second, but people have died during both of them.”

“Not usually, but it’s not unheard of,” Zash answered, chuckling. Va’lana could hear the smirk in her voice, despite that being in Khem’s body, she physically _couldn’t_ smirk.

Darth Baras lay dead in the center of the Dark Council chambers, the Emperor’s Wrath standing victorious over him. Beside the Wrath stood her apprentice, that Willsaam woman who she was so determined to find all those months ago, back on Alderaan. Va’lana believed the woman’s name was Jaesa.

“I believe I underestimated our Wrath,” Va’lana commented, watching the drama unfold. “I dismissed her as a weapon, a mere tool for other Sith. I didn’t genuinely believe she was up to the task of taking revenge on Baras. If I’d expected her to win, I might have aided her against him in some way.”

“And had you aided her, I’d have advised against it at the time,” Zash agreed, a thoughtful frown in her tone this time. “She’s more powerful than either of us realized. A bit of a pity, that.”

“You’re right,” Va’lana mused, considering. “The council will prefer to cast her aside, won’t they? They’ll either ignore her or send her on jobs that keep her out of the way. Either way she won’t be allowed to gain power beyond what she already has.”

“Yes,” Zash nodded. “No one will want to ally with her; now that she’s destroyed her previous master they won’t trust her.”

“And if she acts up, they’ll find some excuse to have her destroyed,” Va’lana frowned.

She knelt as Darth Marr called for the Dark Council to kneel before the Emperor’s Wrath—Va’lana being one of the few who knew the Wrath’s real name was _Nimus_. She was tall and powerfully built: a human woman with handsome olive skin, white hair, and black-and-red battle armor. Va’lana had seen her in action and fought beside her, first on Balmorra, then on Alderaan, Hoth, Belsavis, and Corellia. A veritable juggernaut in battle, her lightsaber and Force skills were as much a trampling as a technique—but still highly deadly.

Was this to be the Wrath’s single moment of glory?

“You’re scheming something up,” Zash accused as they left the council chambers. “I can smell it on you. It has something to do with that Wrath woman, yes?”

“Perhaps,” Va’lana admitted, smirking a bit at her former patron’s insight. “I _do_ feel that she’d make an excellent ally, but I don’t yet know how to go about convincing her of this.”

“Ah, good, so you realize that after being betrayed by her master as well as other Sith, she’s not going to trust you outright.”

“No, she’s not; you’re correct,” Va’lana agreed.

“Well, don’t let _me_ discourage you, my beautiful apprentice,” Zash assured her. “You’ve proven again and again that you’re excellent at getting what you want, and you’re very good at coming up with unusual ways of getting it.”

* * *

* * *

“I know you’re there, Ashara,” Va’lana commented without turning around. She sipped her wine and continued to stare out the window at the rain on Dromund Kas. “It was a good effort, though. You’re getting better at masking your presence without my help.”

“Are you coming to bed soon, Master?” Ashara asked from behind her. Va’lana smiled as she felt Ashara’s silk nightgown against her bare back. She felt those slender arms wrap about her torso as Ashara’s cheek rested against her shoulder blade. “It’s so _cold_ in there without you.”

Va’lana gave a soft chuckle at Ashara’s allusion to their first night in each other’s arms. That cold night they’d spent trapped in that ice cave on Hoth. Snowstorm coming on, they’d cleared the cave of its resident Wampas, then set up a portable shelter for the two of them and their swoop. The swoop had been underperforming in the intense cold and simply couldn’t get them back to safety before the storm set in.

Using the closeness to her advantage, Va’lana had of course seduced Ashara, on the pretense of keeping each other warm. They’d made love in that military-issue bedroll, Sith teaching her apprentice some of the finer points of pleasuring another woman. Once arriving back on their ship, Ashara moved permanently into her master’s quarters, and the two maintained an active and healthy sex-life.

Meanwhile, Andronikus continued to berate himself for pawning the Hoth mission off on Ashara.

Though Ashara didn’t always agree philosophically with her master, their differences and debates became yet another part of their relationship. And Ashara’s non-Sith perspectives frequently provided invaluable insight for Va’lana’s planning and decision-making.

“I will soon, I promise,” Va’lana assured her, feeling those orange hands slide up and down her blue torso. “I just have a great deal to think about.”

“Can I help?” Ashara asked, circling her hands closer and closer to Va’lana’s breasts.

“Perhaps,” Va’lana admitted, finally turning around. She studied her lovely apprentice for a moment: her slender form, the blue and white-patterned horns and head-tails, and the white mask-like pattern on her orange face. “You don’t think like a Sith, my dear, perhaps you can think of something I can’t.”

“Alright,” Ashara frowned, letting her master pull her into an embrace. Va’lana held her close and rocked her back and forth for a moment, Ashara’s cheek against her collarbone.

“If you wanted to create an alliance with a Sith—one who’s been bereft of any reason to trust any of her fellow Sith—how would you go about earning that trust?”

“Is she into other women?” Ashara asked.

“She is,” Va’lana admitted, thinking it over. There were some interesting possibilities in seduction, she realized. “That might be a useful angle of approach, mightn’t it? Thank you, my dear.”

“You’re welcome,” Ashara murmured, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Va’lana’s neck and shoulder.

“And that’s something you’d be comfortable with?” Va’lana asked her, stroking that cute, slender little butt, “me seducing another woman?”

“Will you take holovids?” Ashara deadpanned.

“You actually made a joke,” Va’lana laughed. “Does that make Andronikus and I good influences on you, or bad influences?”

“Both, probably,” Ashara said, slipping a hand inside Va’lana’s waistband. “Who knows, maybe someday you’ll get Xalek to make a joke, too.”

Va’lana laughed again as she leaned down to kiss her. Blue lips met orange lips as she turned to press Ashara against the wall.

* * *

* * *

“And there’s nothing either of you can do about it?” Nimus scowled at Quinn’s image over the holo. The hubbub from the cantina’s music and patrons hopefully drowned out the conversation to anyone trying to listening in. Nimus kept her arm around Jaesa while Vette sipped her second or third drink.

“I’m afraid not, my lord,” Quinn apologized. “Lieutenant Pierce has already been reassigned to ops on Moff Pyron’s task force, and I’m not allowed to know what my new assignment is until I arrive. I’m sorry. Moff Pyron is an excellent reassignment, though. He has several strong allies on the Dark Council. His success with the Silencer project has earned him many friends.”

“And now you’re just leaving? Just like that?” Vette asked from across the table. “I won’t get to kick ya in the shebs again for old-time’s sake?”

“No, I’m afraid we’ve likely seen the last of each other, Vette,” Quinn replied, his tone seeming to lighten fractionally. “Strangely enough, I’m moderately saddened by this realization.”

“Well, I don’t have any real influence in the Imperial fleet, so it’s not like I can stop this,” Nimus conceded, scowling and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “If possible, feel free to feed me updates on whatever your new assignment is—if it doesn’t compromise your position, of course.”

“Of course, thank you, my lord,” Quinn assured her. “I’m… I’m afraid that with Darth Baras out of the picture, many of his past decisions are being repealed. Too many people want his legacy buried.”

_Including me_ , Nimus realized sourly, _I’m part of his legacy as well…_

“I appreciate your past service, Malavai,” she lied. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you and Lieutenant Pierce.” _Little mongrel_.

“Thank you, my lord,” Quinn replied. “It’s been an honor serving you.” He bowed as his holo vanished. Nimus found herself simultaneously relieved to have him out of her hair and frustrated that her last military contact had been severed.

Nimus stewed over her frustration as she glared into her drink. Darth Baras’s destruction was supposed to be her highest glory. But in the months since his death, everything she’d built leading up to his fall was coming apart. First Broonmark left to hunt the galaxy again, now Quinn and Pierce had been taken from her.

“I have a problem,” she said aloud.

“What do you mean, Master?” Jaesa asked, looking up from her shoulder.

“The Dark Council wants me out of the way,” she murmured, prompting Vette and Jaesa both to raise their brows. “I did their dirty work in taking down Baras, and now they want me gone—either set aside or dead.”

“What makes you think all of this is the council’s doing?” Jaesa frowned, scowling at the thought.

“Quinn said that Moff Pyron has friends on the Dark Council,” Nimus explained. “He’s got all kinds of power for getting people moved around and reassigned. Who better to take my military contacts away and make it look like a promotion for them?”

“It makes a sick kind of sense,” Vette admitted.

“So take the fight to them, Master,” Jaesa insisted, sitting upright. “If the council comes after you, you should go after them! Find out who on the council is trying to skrog you over and take them out one at a time—just like you did with Darth Baras and his allies.”

“Unless this is all a trap,” Vette suggested. “They provoke you into attacking, just so they have an excuse to take you out.”

“And in taking away the military parts of my team, they’re already undermining my ability to do that,” Nimus scowled deeper at her drink.

“But you’re the Emperor’s Wrath,” Jaesa objected. “You speak and act with the will of the most powerful being in the galaxy!”

“Except that I’m not sure that counts for anything anymore,” Nimus said, lowering her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“The Emperor has been silent for weeks now,” Nimus told her. “And I’ve heard nothing from his other agents. Something isn’t right.”

“We should go pirate!” Vette suggested, sitting up straight and grinning. “We’ve got a fast ship with a lot of firepower—we should start a gang of sheb-kicking pirate queens! We can jet off into Republic space somewhere, raid a few pleasure yachts, kidnap and seduce a few senators’ daughters, sell the loot on Nar Shadaa, and then it’s hard drinks and dancing girls for everybody!” She laughed, gesturing extravagantly.

“That kind of sounds like fun,” Jaesa admitted. “Especially the parts about dancing girls and senators’ daughters.”

“I’ll think on it, anyway,” Nimus decided. Going pirate had an appealing charm, but also wrecked any chance of regaining any of the political power that was being leeched away from her. “Kriff it,” she decided, standing. “I came here to drink and get laid, but after Quinn’s call I’m just not in the mood anymore.”

“That’s cool,” Vette shrugged. “Take a hot bath and go brood for a while,” she suggested. “But is it alright if _I_ still stick around to drink and get laid?”

Nimus chuckled. “Sure, knock yourself out.”

“I don’t plan on getting laid _that_ hard.”

* * *

* * *

_Brooding_ was actually a fair description of what she was doing, Nimus agreed as she soaked in the hot tub, glaring at the ceiling. She suddenly wished Jaesa had come home too, instead of sticking around with Vette. Nimus was frustrated again and needed an outlet for her aggression, whether sparring or skrogging.

Even before she became the Emperor’s Wrath, she’d earned her savage reputation in battle against enemies on over a half-dozen planets. But this political maneuvering with the Dark Council was a form of warfare that no one had trained her in how to fight. And now she was pitted against the most ruthless body of political maneuverers the galaxy had ever known.

_This is Darth Baras’s fault_ , she decided, scowling and closing her eyes. Where most masters taught their apprentices the ins and outs of Sith politics, he hadn’t even covered the basics with her. Maybe this was his token revenge, leaving her vulnerable through political impotence if she managed to best him.

Or at the very least he may have considered teaching her politics a waste of time, since he only intended to dispose of her anyway.

She needed allies—that much was obvious—but she had no idea who she could trust. Could she trust _anyone_? During her travels, Nimus had met and made contacts with plenty of other Sith, but were there any who’d be willing to support her, especially following the Dark Council’s increasingly obvious rejection? Darth Vowron owed her favors, but his pull had waned following his Pyrrhic victory on Corellia, particularly given that he and Nimus had left before the war was over in order to end Baras’s little scheme. Maybe if Quinn or Pierce hadn’t been taken from her, one of their military contacts might—

Her thought cut off as she sensed a dark presence nearby. Another Sith was in her home, she realized, leaping to her feet, water sloshing around her. Dropping into a fighting stance, she pulled her lightsaber to her and stretched out with her senses.

“Where are you?” she murmured to herself, still crotch-deep in the steamy water. “I know you’re here.”

“Only because I allowed it,” a polite and calculating voice said from behind her.

Spinning around and igniting her saber, she found a familiar pair of red eyes regarding her. She could almost feel the Chiss sizing up her naked body. Wearing a black robes but no lightsaber, Va’lana leaned casually against the bare wall behind her.

“Darth Occlus,” Nimus raised her brow and lowered her saber. “I know exactly how damned good you are at masking your presence,” Ninus conceded. “That we’re conversing means the Dark Council hasn’t sent you to kill me.”

“Of course it hasn’t,” Va’lana shook her head, standing up straight. “The council knows that eliminating you would require the sacrifice of more pawns than you’re worth at the moment—at least without one of the council members deliberately bloodying their hands. They’d much rather you simply disappear, or better yet, die on some battlefield for the Empire’s cause. They don’t trust you—and several are envious of your position and accomplishments as the Emperor’s Wrath—so you’re worth more to them as a martyr than as an ally.”

“I see,” Nimus said, thinking it over and extinguishing her saber. That actually made a lot of sense. “So Vette’s plan of going pirate by raiding Republic shipping and abducting senators’ daughters is something the council would probably approve of, then.”

Va’lana chuckled. “If you decide to take that route, let me know. I’d love to join, and Andronikus has all manner of contacts we can utilize.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” Nimus smirked. She tossed her saber aside, then gestured for Va’lana to join her. “So, why _are_ you here then?” she asked, sitting down and lounging back in the hot tub.

Va’lana slipped her boots off before answering. “I’m here because I believe making an enemy of you is suicidal and making a martyr of you is a waste,” she said as she unbelted her robe. “I’m here to make you an offer that I hope you’ll find interesting.”

“I’m listening,” Nimus told her, using the Force to activate the nearby comm. “2V, I have unexpected company,” she said, watching Va’lana strip to her under-tunic. “Bring Darth Occlus and me a couple glasses and that expensive wine that Vette stole.”

“Of course, my illustrious master!” the droid replied.

The other Sith smirked as she tossed her robes aside. Next she pulled her tunic off, revealing round breasts and a strong, solid abdomen. Both women were tall and powerfully built, Nimus being a few centimeters taller. But where Nimus was built like a thick, well-muscled pillar, Va’lana was a statue, cold and shapely and sculpted. Va’lana stripped off her trousers next, then slid herself into the steamy hot water. Even naked, the Sith murderess was sinister and imposing, yet charismatic and beautiful.

Nimus found herself rather blunt and brutish by comparison.

“Here you are, Master,” 2V hailed as he arrived with the wine. He set the tray down beside Nimus.

“Excellent, now go find yourself a quiet place to recharge for a while, 2V,” Nimus ordered.

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” the droid said as he shuffled from the room.

“Are all Sith protocol droids programed to be so _fawning_?” Va’lana asked as Nimus poured the wine. “The one aboard my ship is just as pathetic.”

“I think they program them like that because a lot of Sith like to have their egos stroked, even by their droids,” Nimus commented, handing a glass to her sexy companion. “I find it mostly annoying, but I when I try to explain that to him, it just makes him try harder. So, what’s this offer of yours?” she asked as Va’lana took a sip.

“I feel like the council is being both foolish and wasteful in their treatment of you,” the Chiss began. Nimus took a sip of her wine as the other explained. Dry stuff, she admitted, casting a brief glare into her glass, but it would have to do on such short notice. “But I like to think of myself as a bit more… _pragmatic_ than that. And I am always on the lookout for skilled allies, even if in unusual places.”

“I’ve noticed; I’ve been aboard your ship,” Nimus smirked as she took another sip. “Your crew’s made up of a Kaleesh warrior, a former Jedi Padawan, an Imperial Reclamation officer, a notorious pirate, and an ancient Sith horror. It doesn’t get more unusual than that.”

“As if you’re in much position to talk, my dear,” Va’lana smirked in return.

Nimus kept her smirk as she thought it over. “So you’re offering an alliance between us then?” she asked, swirling the wine in her glass.

“Something of the sort, yes.”

“I’ll give it some thought,” Nimus conceded. “We’ve fought and killed together and brought down the Republic on at least a half-dozen worlds. You’re skilled and powerful and pragmatic, and believe it or not, I actually _like_ you. But that doesn’t mean that I _trust_ you. I had my fill of the Sith patronage system under Baras, and I’m not in any hurry to put myself back under someone else’s thumb. I can’t trust a new patron to not betray me.”

“Except that I’m not proposing patronage or anything of the sort,” Va’lana shook her head before taking another sip of wine. “As your patron, I’d not trust you not to betray me as well. What I have in mind,” she explained, leaning forward, “is more along the lines of a _marriage alliance_.

“How would you like to be my _wife_?”

Nimus just stared, startled and needing a moment to process. She threw her head back and laughed as the implications sank in.

“And the Dark Council would never see it coming!” she cackled, loving the idea.

“I take it you approve?” Va’lana asked, smirking.

“It’s an excellent plan!” Nimus assured her, sitting up and grinning. “We’ll be queens of the Dark Side!”

“That has an _enchanting_ ring to it,” Va’lana agreed.

“Battle-armor and lightsabers, hand-in-hand, leaving destruction in our wake and confounding the Republic and the Dark Council alike,” Nimus purred, sipping more wine. “What all will this entail to?”

“I’m sure the plan will evolve as we go along, but for now I’d like for us to become an inseparable and unstoppable force of nature,” Va’lana told her, “whether on the battlefield or at the council meetings.”

“Or in the bedroom?”

“Naturally.”

“Even better.”

“So you approve then?” Va’lana asked, deliberately needlessly. “In that case, my dear Nimus,” she began, using the Force to pull a small black box from her robes. “Will you marry me?” she asked, kneeling before her in the water and opening the box. Within lay a simple, unadorned wedding ring.

“Of course I’ll marry you, dearest love,” Nimus answered, kneeling as well and adopting a melodramatic tone. With that she gripped the back of Va’lana’s head and pressed their lips together.

And in that kiss, their lust and passion was laid bare. Their emotions merged with their bodies as they kissed and caressed. Nimus pulled her partner atop her as she lay back in the tub, their thoughts and feelings and legs and tongues entwining. Shockingly, she sensed no duplicity from her new fiancée. Va’lana—Darth Occlus—actually _meant_ this marriage alliance and expected the two of them to do great things together.

Nimus smiled into the kiss, sinking deeper into their passion. This alliance was going to be kriffing beautiful—and with a lot of beautiful kriffing, she realized, gasping as her fiancée rubbed against her.

* * *

* * *

“Hah! Seven minutes in and they’re skrogging! Pay up!” Vette demanded as they watched the holo-feed of her boss’s hot tub.

“Ugh. How do you always con me into betting against you?” Jaesa asked, handing over the credits.

“I’m impressed,” Ashara admitted, counting out what she owed. “I mean, my master is incredibly persuasive, but even _I_ expected that to take longer. How did you know?” she asked Vette.

“Easy, I know something you two don’t,” Vette grinned as she dropped the credits into her pouch. “Those two have skrogged before.”

“ _What?_ ” Jaesa demanded.

“When was that?” Ashara asked.

“Back on Alderaan,” Vette told them. “The boss was looking for your parents, Jaesa,” she explained. “And Ashara’s master was looking for a relic from some dead Sith guy called To-lick Warts or something like that. They helped each other with their missions and then whacked some duke or baron whose last name was ‘Ugly.’ Then after that they celebrated by commandeering a room at the Thuls’ palace, bumping crotches all night, and deflowering a couple of maids and some noble girl who was in the wrong place at the right time. It was kind of like what they’re doing now, minus the maids and noble girl,” she gestured at the holo.

Vette had to admit it was wicked hot as she watched them. She kind of wished she was there in the hot tub with them, getting her brains kriffed out by two wicked-sexy Sith queens.

“How can two women so muscular be that flexible?” she wondered aloud, tilting her head at the holo image. “I’m _way_ slimmer than they are, and I’m pretty sure I can’t bend like that.”

The _pop_ of two sets of lips parting told Vette that the others weren’t paying attention anymore. She smirked and turned to see Jaesa pressing a startled but unresisting Ashara back on the couch.

_Well, I did tell the boss I planned to get laid_ , Vette admitted, taking off her boots.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'know, if there's enough interest, I might be persuaded to write out the full hot tub scene in intricate detail. Just sayin'. Thanks for reading, folks!


End file.
